


Antoniel's Fall

by mad_hatter_9306



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Pre-Fall (Good Omens), Pre-Fall Crowley (Good Omens)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-03
Updated: 2020-11-03
Packaged: 2021-03-08 22:47:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,656
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27364519
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mad_hatter_9306/pseuds/mad_hatter_9306
Summary: Crowley hadn't meant to Fall. Just... hung around the wrong people.(aka YET ANOTHER reason no keyboards, pencils, paper, or anything else of the sort should be allowed around me after 11;30)
Kudos: 4





	Antoniel's Fall

**Author's Note:**

> it's one in the fucking morning, and inspiration stroke! striked. struck. struck's the one. inspiration struck.
> 
> so, this is in no way, shape, or form related to my other pre-fall late-night what-do-you-call-it, titled "A Nice Enough Name." i did, however, use the same pre-fall name bc (a) its a nice enough name (haha do u geddit?) and (b) this is all about pre-fall crowley and i have no other name to give him bc even tho most ppl think he used to be raphael, i don't really know who raphael is, even tho im a good christian girl (haha... yep...) so, like... his name's antoniel, fucking deal with it.
> 
> anyways this is my hot new take on the bit abt "crowley didn't mean to fal he just hung around the wrong ppl, etc, etc." enjoy!
> 
> also, as mentioned, its fucking 1am so plz excuse some errors, im to tired to worry abt fucking grammar. and lets get it on with. over with. whatever.
> 
> Edit: As of about 1:30 the next (same? I don't know, I've slept since then) day, I have edited this. Not gonna bother going through the notes, sorry, that's a headache I don't need. Actually, no, scratch that, I just went through and fixed spelling errors. Now it's a bit less of a mess for y'all. Have a good day, people! :)

Antoniel really hadn't Fallen of his own accord. He just hung around the wrong people, as he told everyone who asked.

"Why'd _you_ Fall," they'd say, after blabbering on and on about the evil, rebellious deeds they had performed against God. And Antoniel cried that _it wasn't his fault!_

He wondered if She even cared. It seemed not, if She could just let random angels Fall, plummet past earth and into Hell, for no crimes other than that they were caught in the crossfire.

Crowley still had nightmares. Not that he'd ever tell Aziraphale of course. Knowing that it wasn't Crowley's fault was already bad enough for the angel; if he knew that She had done it all carelessly, if he knew it could have been any other angel, if he knew it cold have been _him..._ no, Aziraphale had enough keeping him up, he didn't need Crowley's nightmares on his mind.

They were terrible, the nightmares. They were never clear, though Crowley supposes that that would have been even more horrifying: reliving it all in crystal clarity. No, they were quick flashes of it all: his "friends" cracking jokes; them poking fun at God; Antoniel laughing along, but knowing that he shouldn't; Antoniel getting ready to leave, to tell someone (who? Aziraphale? Michael? Gabriel? God herself?). The first bolts of light hitting nearby; the first angel being hit; them Falling, the first Antoniel had ever seen. The others being hit; one standing in front of Antoniel, quite by accident; them leaping frantically out of the way as it came; it hitting Antoniel in their place. The utter terror and pain, worse than anything he'd ever experienced, as he began to Fall. The seemingly endless descent; bracing himself as he neared earth; feeling nothing as he passed through what should have been solid ground; the solid _thump_ as he landed on the cold, hard floor of Hell.

It hadn't been quite so grimy back then, you know. It had actually been rather like Heaven, only everything was black. Instead of a happy, hopeful feel, there was an intensely gloomy air to it all. Antoniel had felt his wings flare out when he first began to tumble from Heaven; he studied them now, making sure they were still in shape. An angel's wings were their most prized possession. If anything was ever wrong with an angel's wings, they made sure it was fixed immediately. They constantly groomed themselves, and regularly flexed their beautiful feathers, simply to make sure everything was in working order.

Antoniel--for he was still Antoniel then, not having chosen a new name--was like most, if not all, angels, and took immense pride in his immaculate wings. So absorbed in looking them over, he hardly noticed that they were a deep pitch black. When he did notice, he startled. He tried scrubbing at them, in the hopes that the strange blackness would go away. It didn't. Antoniel felt tears well up in his eyes, for he was still a rather young angel. That being said, even ancient angels, angels who considered themselves untouchable, may begin crying if anything were to happen to their wings.

Antoniel cried for a long while. He cried over the injustice of it all, how he hadn't even been at fault. He cried for his incredible wings, which had been so perfect before, and now were this horrible black. He cried until he had no more tears, and then he sat curled in on himself, waiting for someone to save him, tell him it had all been a dream.

Someone did come, in fact. But when they shook him roughly by the shoulder, it wasn't to wake him up. "Get up, you young whelp," they said in a raspy voice. They grabbed his arm and pulled him to his feet.

Antoniel rubbed his eyes and looked at the newcomer. They were filthy, and pale under all the grime they had already accumulated. And yet, something was vaguely familiar...

"V- Vistriel?"

"Name's Hastur, youngling." Vistriel--Hastur had no right calling him youngling, seeing as Antoniel was a few inches taller than him. Antoniel also happened to have some years on Vistri--Hastur! Well, he would have if time was a concept before creation, before the Fall, but that's irrelevant.

"Wh- where are we?"

"Welcome to Hell, the domain of the rebellious angels who have since Fallen. Congratulations--say, what's your name?"

"Antoniel. You know me... don't you?"

"Not your _angel_ name, your new one!" Hastur said the word _angel_ with distaste, as if angels were something incredibly horrible.

"O-oh. I... I don't really know, I suppose."

"You don't _know?"_ Hastur sounded incredulous. "Nearly everyone's chosen a name. What have you been doing?"

"Mourning my wings. L-look at them." Antoniel stretched his wings out to show Hastur. He felt the tears returning. Odd; he'd thought he had no more.

Hastur glanced at them dismissively. "They look like any old wings. I don't see what there is to mourn."

"B-but! They were so pretty before! They were so white, they almost sparkled! N-now l-look at them! They're so ugly, and awful, and _black!!"_

"Get used to it." Hastur rolled his eyes. "Everyone's are that way now. Now, are you going to choose a name, or not?"

"Can't I just keep Antoniel?"

Hastur sighed heavily. "No, you can't _just keep Antoniel._ We're cutting all ties with Heaven, and Her, you little fool! Now, pick a name, or his royal princelyness Beelzebub will have to be bothered to choose one for you."

Antoniel looked up. "That's it! Take me to Beelzebub. I have to talk to him."

"You don't _have to_ talk to anyone!"

"Take. Me." Antoniel felt something in him change. He felt something in his mind whisper, _scare him._ On instinct, he hissed. But what left his mouth was not a hiss. More of a shriek that came from a face that was most decidedly not his. Only, Antoniel supposed it was now. _No,_ he told himself. _I didn't mean to Fall. I hung around the wrong people. It's all a big misunderstanding. I'll just explain all this to whoever I have to, and I'll get my pretty wings back. I'll see Aziraphale again._

Cowed, Hastur took a step back. "T-taking you to Prince Beelzebub right away."

Antoniel followed Hastur through the dark halls. Finally, Hastur stopped outside a door, and timidly knocked. An already-tired voice called out, "Come in!"

Hastur opened the door and motioned for Antoniel to step in.

"Who're you?" Beelzebub had flies buzzing around his head. A red sash was the only bit of color in his black outfit. He looked at Antoniel, bored.

"My name is Antoniel."

"Not anymore it isn't. What'd you choose for your demon name?"

"See, that's the thing. I don't want a demon name. I want to go back to being an angel. You see, I didn't exactly intend to Fall. I just, sort of, got caught in the crossfire. I don't think God really _meant_ to hit me at all. She was aiming for someone else, but they, uh, moved. And I got hit instead. So if you could just coordinate with whoever you need to, I'd like very much to be on my way--"

A sharp laugh cut him off. Beelzebub was staring at him in disbelief. "Didn't _mean_ to Fall? What a laugh! You're hilarious. I suppose you'd be wanting to become human next."

"Well, actually, I was quite serious--"

"Nope. Sorry. Can't do it. 'M afraid you're stuck here, pal, whether you like it or not." He scrutinized Antoniel. "Crawly. That's your new name. Suits ya, with the snake sorta theme and all. Now, get up to the human world, some garden She created," Beelzebub grinned, "and make some mischief."

That was all back when Crowley had just Fallen. When he was still unsure in the ways of the world. When he had naively thought that he could just go back to Heaven.

Then he had learned better. He had learned to throw himself into his work. To do his horrible job to the best of his ability, and then some.

He had learned that humans weren't fundamentally good or bad. They were just fundamentally weak. Whisper a vague suggestion, and they were suddenly all over it, making it ten times worse--or ten times better, depending on your outlook. No other demon seemed to notice this, so Crowley took credit for it all.

It was almost endearing, though he'd never say it aloud, how they consistently made the worst of things.

He learned to care for his new wings. He learned to love the glossy black, beautiful in its own way. He learned the ups and downs of his yellow eyes, and the immense black snake he could turn into at will.

And as he learned all this, he learned to forget Antoniel. As most demons had done on day 1, he learned to forget that he had ever been an angel at all. He threw himself into his demonic-ness, his snake-ness, his evilness. He learned to use alcohol, and a lot of it, to help forget everything. He learned not to think too much on anything, because thinking about anything always, _always_ led back to thinking about his unintentional nosedive.

If you'd like, you can pretend that wasn't how he coped. You could imagine that he hadn't had to cope at all. You can pretend that Beelzebub had been kind and understanding, and he had sent a scroll up to Heaven, explaining the mistake. You can imagine that Crawly had never become Crowley, and had instead gone right back to being Antoniel, frolicking in the clouds with his best friend. You can think, if you like, that neither Aziraphale nor Antoniel ever went through the trauma that was Antoniel's Fall.

You can imagine that all of these wonderful things happened. But the nightmares still keep Crowley awake.

**Author's Note:**

> holy fuck did i fucking write that? unreal. no way. and it took a whole hour and fifteen minutes to do it.
> 
> maybe i'll edit this when im not dead on my feet. my butt. im laying down. whatever.
> 
> maybe ill edit this when im more awake, but for now, youll just have to make do wit this little horror. hope you like! good night. or morning. or maybe tis the fucking afternoon, how the fuck do i know. bye u lovely beautiful ppl.
> 
> also btw, i really love the idea of crowley's wings. just like... i really love his wings. the white ones can be a bit bright and shiny, and crowley's nice black ones are just... you could get fucking lost in them. also i like his eyes. i think the snake aeyes are really cool. coincedentally, janus's snake eye (yknow from sanders sides) is also like my favorite thing about him. maybe i just really like snake features. snakes are cool. i wanna pet snake. comment what pet you have/want! wait no this isnt a fucking youttube outro. dont do that. if u dont want to. fuck it. byr.
> 
> edit: oh yeah forgot to mention somethin on beelzebub. (this is an hour later in case ur wondering:) typically i use ze/zir pronouns for beelzebub, but i used he/him pronouns here cuz i figured that the ze/zir ones wouldn't be around yet, and y'know, all this shit just started, noone's had time for gender or anything just yet. so, 6000 yrs later, beelzebub gets ze/zir pronouns. for now, it's he/him. once gender becomes a THING, it'll probably be they/them until... whenever the ze/zir pronouns came around. there i googled it. here's a quote from the totally perfect, accurate, trustworthy site i chose: "Mill didn’t coin a pronoun to correct this defect, but in 1864, a writer identified only as J. W. L. came up with gender-neutral ze and recommended getting Noah Webster to endorse his coinage. That would prove a problem, because Webster had died in 1843." and here's the llink:  
> https://blogs.illinois.edu/view/25/705317  
> there u go now u can look at pronoun history too. idk why pronouns are such a big thing with me. like this fandom is rly fucking with me cuz i wanna get everyones pronouns right but literally everyone has like five different pronoun choices. one could do female ineffable wives just as easily as male ineffable husbands. michael could be male or female. beelzebub could be he/him, she/her, they/them, or some variation of ze/zir. its literally all up to the author. i dunno. i just... pronouns man. if youve ever wondered, mine are she/her. tho for some reason ive always liked doing male parts in acting. like... what? idk why. im pretty sure im a cis female, but i rly like acting guys and idk why. like i don't think im trans, not that its a bad thing, but like... im too tired to rly think abt it. im she/her. beelzebub is usually ze/zir for me. actually, funny story. when i first started rly considering beelzebub, i didnt know what pronouns to use, cuz like, i was pretty sure ze's traditionally male, but like, female actress??? so for the whole day i awkwardly said "he... she... they... blablabla" and then i googled it and neil gaiman said ze'd used the zzzzzzzzzzzzir pronouns cuz of the flies. and i was so fucking glad i googled it, cuz i was thinking, oh, i'll just wait till i watch the show, i'll figure it out then, and... i wouldn't have. i would have kept on awkwardly switching pronouns for zir. so yeah, that's why i use ze/zir pronouns for beelzebub. have a good whatever time of the day it is for u. later ppl.
> 
> Edit #2: haha, maybe I should've watched the whole show before making headcanons... I always do this, it's ridiculous. I need to learn how to stay away from fandom content until I'm done with canon content. Anyways, I based this off the "didn't mean to fall, just hung around the wrong people" thing, obviously. But then I watched episode 4 yesterday and Crowley says he was asking questions. So clearly, there's a good deal more to it than this. (And, yeah, you read right: episode 4. Watched, no prefix. I'm fourteen, I'm doing the best I can.) So... have a good night or day or something. Enjoy your existence, people!


End file.
